


Glass Houses

by shield_maiden



Series: Bellarke One-shots [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, bellamy likes it, clarke has an exhibitionist streak, feat. my usual level of dislike for finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shield_maiden/pseuds/shield_maiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt taken from an AU prompt meme on tumblr. 'We live in halls opposite each other and I keep seeing you changing through your window.'</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Bellamy Blake is a month into living in this shitty college dorm (wasn’t he supposed to be out of here by now? He’s a junior for fucks sake.) and he hates it. One tiny upside is that his window faces one of the other halls, and the chick in the room opposite his is fucking hot. He’s seen her changing a handful of times now, because apparently curtains aren’t a thing anymore.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Houses

**Author's Note:**

> Not my characters etc.  
> Pretty much my second time writing smut, first time writing het smut. So I hope it doesn't suck.  
> But please tell me if it does.  
> Comments are my favorite!

Bellamy Blake is a month into living in this shitty college dorm (wasn’t he supposed to be out of here by now? He’s a junior for fucks sake.) and he hates it. The plus side is that his room-mate is rarely there because he’s too busy fucking his on-again-off-again girlfriend, in the whole month Bellamy’s seen Finn for all of five minutes and it’s a blessing because he thinks he might actually hate Finn more than he hates the dorms. And he despises these dorms.

One tiny upside is that his window faces one of the other halls, and the chick in the room opposite his is fucking hot. He’s seen her changing a handful of times now, because apparently curtains aren’t a thing anymore. The first time was a Monday night, he remembers because he was trying to finish that stupid paper for his criminology class, and out of the corner of his eye he’d spotted movement across the way.

He’d looked up in time to see the blonde drag her shirt over her head, leaving her standing there in nothing but her underwear. He’d watched her walk over to her closet, her ass was perfect and her legs were toned and suddenly Bellamy is really glad he’s alone so no one can see him drooling over mystery stripping chick with his dick half hard in his shorts.

The next time he’s on his way out for a ‘date’ with a girl called Roma, who he’s seen a handful of times, and sure, she’s fun, but Bellamy doesn’t see it being anything beyond company and a fairly average fuck. He’s in the middle of getting dressed himself when he sees movement in the window across from him and he leaves his shirt half buttoned in favor of paying attention to blondie. She’s clearly just come back from the gym. Her blonde waves are in a high pony-tail and she’s just wearing a sports bra and yoga pants. She turns away from the window and he thinks she’s talking to someone, her room-mate probably. But just then his phone buzzes with a text from Roma and he regretfully turns away from the window and gets ready to leave.

One morning, after he’s been up all night working on cases for mock trials, he sees her again. This time she’s sitting at her own desk in front of her window, her hair messy from sleep. She looks up at him and smiles, giving him a coy wave. He smiles in return and goes back to his work. The next time he looks up she’s standing in front of the window, her eyes meet his and she grins, her fingers twisting in the hem of the oversized shirt she must wear to sleep. He watches intently as she drags it agonizingly slowly over her head and drops it on the floor. With a wink she turns away, and he gets another view of that splendid ass, clad in black lace panties. Her fingers slip under the waistband and he groans, his already hard dick twitching against his thigh as she pushes the panties down, throwing a look over her shoulder to see if he’s still watching. He definitely is. She steps out of her panties and throws another wave over her shoulder before sauntering out of his line of vision. He takes himself in hand, needing to ease his nearly painful erection. He comes embarrassingly fast.

  


There’s a party being thrown by one of the frat houses, and after much prodding from Miller, Bellamy agrees to go. He doesn’t hate parties per-se, but after a while they become fairly monotonous. He’s standing on the lawn of the frat house, a beer in hand talking with Miller and a small group of friends when he sees her, leaning over the porch railing talking to a boy he vaguely recognizes from around campus. She looks up then, and catches him looking and blushes. It makes Bellamy grin, she can basically strip for him in the building across from his, but eye contact at a party is embarrassing? 

She heads inside, throwing a pointed look at him over her shoulder, and he nods and follows her, making an excuse to miller about getting another drink, even though his beer is still half full. He weaves his way through the crowd to the kitchen, where he finds her leaning back against the counter, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looks up at him. He smirks at her as he comes to stand in front of her, his hands reaching out to brace himself on the bench, pressing their bodies together.

“So, Princess. Fancy seeing you here.” He murmurs lowly in her ear. “You put on quite a show, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She hums, her fingers sliding through his belt loops, keeping him pressed against her, even though he has absolutely zero intention of moving away. She licks her lips. “What’s your name?”

“Bellamy.” He responds easily “Bellamy Blake.” The space between them is all but nonexistent now, and he feels her lips brush his as she replies with her own name. 

“Clarke Griffin.” Then they’re kissing, his hands pulling her closer as her fingers twist into his hair. It’s hot and heavy but soon they have to pull apart to breathe and Bellamy starts kissing his way down her throat. He’s just discovered the spot below her ear that makes her gasp when they’re both pulled back to reality by someone coming into the kitchen for more alcohol. Keeping his hands on her waist with the guise of holding her upright they both stifle laughter as their intruder goes back to dancing. They were perilously close to fucking at a frat house party in the kitchen. Clarke seems to have regained her footing and slips her hand into his.

“Wanna get out of here?” She asks. And Bellamy can’t help the smile that spreads over his face.

“Sure thing, Princess. My place or yours?”

  


They end up at his place. It’s moderately tidy and blissfully quiet and empty. He locks the door behind him and when he turns back around he sees Clarke near his little book shelf, running her fingers over the spines. She sees the framed photo of him and his sister, taken two summers ago, Octavia had tickled him mercilessly until he’d smiled for her to snap the photo.

“She’s pretty.” Clarke says, her voice barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of his room, he can hear her perfectly.

“That’s my little sister,” he says as he sits on his bed. “She’s pretty much all the family I have left. We never knew our father and our mother died in a car accident when I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Clarke says as she sits down beside him. “What’s your sister like?”

“She’s amazing, very headstrong and hates doing what she’s told.” He smiles fondly “She’s a business major here. It was hard enough getting her to finish high school, I never thought she’d go to college.”

“She’s lucky to have someone looking out for her. And it’s adorable how proud you are.” Clarke smiles softly. “I assume by the text books you’re studying law?” she asks jerking her head towards the pile of books on his desk.

“Yep.” Bellamy sighed. “It’s kind of horrible sometimes, but I love it.” He looked over at her. “What about you Princess? Let me guess, Sociology?” 

“Nope.” She grinned. “Pre-med.”

“Wow, I was way off.”

“Not too far. You could’ve guessed music or something.”

“True.” 

They sit there in silence for a moment and Bellamy flops back onto the bed and frowns up at his ceiling. He must be tipsy, because all he can think of is how much better the crappy render would be with glow-in-the-dark-stars on it. He must have said that out loud because Clarke is laughing as she lies back next to him, entwining their fingers.

Twenty minutes ago he wanted nothing more than to rip her dress off and fuck her until she forgot her own name. And if he’s honest, he still does want that. But for the first time in a long time, he’s content to just talk and relax. 

She shifts onto her elbow so she’s leaning over him and kisses him soundly, grinning against his lips when he kisses her back. It’s slow and lazy compared to their earlier make-out at the party, and soon Bellamy’s hands are wandering, smoothing over the exposed skin of her back and collarbones, memorizing her cartography. His hands find her waist and he flips them so she’s underneath him, her legs bracketing his hips as she muffles a surprised squeak and giggles into his shoulder.

They’re both wearing far too many clothes for his liking so he pulls back and offers her a hand up. Her hands start on the buttons of his shirt, her lips pressing along his chest as she goes. Once his shirt is on the floor he gestures for her to turn around.

“You still want this, Princess?” He asks huskily, his hands paused at the top of her dress. She glances over her shoulder and smiles.

“Yes, now hurry up.” She hums appreciatively as he slides the zipper down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he undoes the strapless bra she’s wearing with a flick of his wrist. He groans when he sees her underwear, the same black lace pair she’d been wearing that fateful morning when she’d acknowledged his existence. She quirks an eyebrow at him and smirks, her hands reaching for his belt buckle but he gently slaps them away before pushing her back onto the bed.

She props herself onto her elbows to watch him as he drops to his knees and nudges her legs apart with gentle hands. His fingers brush over her panties and he’s rewarded when he feels Clarke’s hips rock slightly against them. But Bellamy keeps going until he reaches the waist band and hooks his fingers underneath, slowly dragging them down, Clarke lifting her hips to help. He smirks at her as he rearranges her legs over his shoulders before ducking his head down to swipe at her clit. He’s vaguely aware of the soft thump of her head hitting the mattress, one of her hands fisting into his hair.

He gets her through her first orgasm when her hand starts tugging impatiently in his hair. He hums in acknowledgement, never taking his mouth off her, raising his eyes to hers as she shudders underneath him.

“Oh…god. Bellamy…” She gasps. “I want you to fuck me.”

Shuffling backwards Bellamy stands just long enough to undo his belt and kick off his jeans and boxer shorts, he doesn’t miss the way Clarke is watching him through half lidded eyes as he rips open a condom packet with his teeth and rolls it on. He positions himself over her, sliding easily into her wet heat as his left hand finds her right beside her head and tangles their fingers together. Clarke’s skin looks milky white compared to his own golden tan complexion, and he stares at their joined hands for a moment, mesmerized by the contrasts between them.

He’s brought back to the present by her lips pressing softly to his neck, her ankles hooking around his thighs is enough to spur him into a slow and steady rhythm. The room is filled with the sounds of gasps and the friction of skin on skin. Bellamy lowers his head to suck and bite at her neck, grinning to himself when Clarke moans his name.

He picks up the pace and soon enough her walls are clenching around him, all it takes is a few circles of his thumb over her clit and she’s coming hard beneath him. He kisses her lazily as he finishes himself, and they lay there, pressed together in the quiet darkness.

Reluctantly he shifts after a few minutes, pulling out of her and removing the condom and throwing it in the trash. He looks back over to the bed and sees her blue eyes watching him, she has a smile on her face and he can’t help but smile back and crawl into bed beside her. Bellamy isn’t usually the cuddling type, but he thinks he could be, if it was like this all the time. Naked girl pressed against him, both of them relaxed and sated.

The next morning he wakes to find Clarke sitting at his desk in the morning sun. He’s struck, not for the first time, by how beautiful she is. And then he notices what she’s wearing. His own dark grey button down shirt from the night before, she’s had to roll the cuffs two or three times, and even then the sleeves are just a little long. He wings his legs over the edge of the bed and walks over to her, bending down to kiss her deeply. When he pulls back there’s a mysterious twinkle in her eye and before he knows it she’s out of the chair and pushing him back onto the bed before slowly and teasingly working each button free.

As the shirt drops to the floor, Bellamy thanks whatever forces he can for making him live in this shitty dorm room across from the really hot blonde with an exhibitionist streak.


End file.
